Finding Yourself
by RavenRiddle21
Summary: Waking up with no idea who you are, and more questions than answers. Join Harry on his journey to discover who he is. This story does not follow the Deathly Hallows plot.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing!

 **A/N: Its been a few years so I'm giving this another whirl. Let me know what you think.**

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It was quiet where he was. He was laying somewhere, and couldn't remember how he had gotten there. The sky was stormy and gray. There was grass tickling his

cheek; the ground was cold, damp, and wet. Something bad had happened here, but he didn't know what. Come to think of it, he couldn't even remember his own

name.

He sat up and looked around. Spread out before him were many bodies. There was blood everywhere, and a smell of death was fresh in the air. He seemed to be the

only one alive. Slowly, he stood up and made his way across the field. He had no idea where he was going, and no idea who he was. All he knew is he did not wish to

linger for a second longer here.

As he walked, he slowly became aware of the pain in his leg and the ache in his head. He realized that he too was covered in blood, and had wounds. 

"What is this place?" He wondered. "What happened?" 

The only clues he had to go on were a stick, book, rock, and a robe. Not much to give him hope of figuring out who he was.

He had to keep trying to navigate around the bodies, and in some spots step over them. With a disgusted look on his face, he got out of the field as quickly as he

could.

He carried the few items that he had closely. Something strange was going on, and he was on his own to figure it out.

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Meanwhile, far away there was a man that wasn't entirely sure he believed what he had been told. There was no way that Harry Potter was dead. He could still sense

the boy. If he had perished as they said he did during their battle. Surely, he wouldn't feel his presence in his mind any longer.

But alas, during the battle he had been knocked unconscious and rushed out of the battlefield. So, he had no idea what had really occurred.


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

 **A/N: So, I started this story a while back. I had kind of forgotten the direction that I had wanted to take it in. So, please bear with me while I am working out my writer's block. I hope you enjoy what I came up with. Please, leave any reviews with any ideas you might like to see happen in this story. Fresh ideas are a great way to get the writer juices flowing.**

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He kept walking. First, he had been near a forest, but as he kept walking he ended up on a flat grassy plain.

He walked for a few days now he guessed from the sunrises he counted. He slept on the ground wrapped in the robe that he had when it was dark. He got up and

walked when the sun came up. That is how he spent a seven of those sunrises now.

He looked up ahead and finally saw what looked like a road. Glad to have finally found a direction. He got on it and followed the trail. Eventually, this trail led to a

small village.

"Maybe now I can get some help." He thought.

Approaching what looked like a pub, the boy walked in.

"Excuse me. I am really lost, and need some help." He said to the man at the counter.

The man looked the boy over and made a shocked noise. The boy had what looked like a crooked leg from a recent injury. He was covered in dirt and dry blood. He

also looked like he had been beaten within an inch of his life.

"What in the bloody hell happened to you?" The bartender asked.

The boy started to panic a little inside. He really didn't know what to tell this man. He really had no idea what had happened himself.

"I'm not sure, I woke up like this! There were bodies everywhere, it was horrible! I can't remember what happened!" The boy exclaimed.

Seeing that the boy was starting to get upset the man pulled him into the back room so he could have some privacy. He also didn't want to attract anymore

unwanted attention to the poor lad.

"Okay, it's alright then." He said, "Why don't we start with something easier. What is your name?"

Tears started to fall down the boy's face at this point. If that was an easy question, the boy didn't know what he was going to do. He didn't have any money, food, or

supplies. He could even tell the man his name; all he wanted was food and to sleep for a month.

"I don't know my name, sir." The boy whispered.

The tears kept streaming, scared and desperate green eyes looked up. "I haven't eaten in a long time, and I don't have any money."

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The man had heard enough. He walked out into the main room of the pub, leaving a poor confused boy standing next to his work table.

The man was gone for a few minutes. When he came back he set a chair in front of the work table, and then walked back out again. When he came back he set a

steaming plate of food onto the work table.

"Sit and eat." The man said, "I am not about to let a hurt and lost lad starve to death."

"My name is Maverick, and this is my pub. After you finish eating, we are going upstairs to give you a bath, and to put you to bed."

"I also think we ought to get the village doctor to come and look at you, lad." Said Maverick. "You don't

look so well."

The boy just stood there in shock for a minute. He couldn't understand what was happening. As what the man had said sunk in. The boy started to sob. Maverick

looked uncomfortable not really knowing what to do with this reaction. So, he did what his mother would always do when he was upset. He went over and hugged the

boy.

"Thank you so much, sir! But I have no way to pay you for all of that!"

"Don't even think of it." Said the man. "I'm sure in a little while when you are feeling better. We can work out a way for you to pay me back."

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The boy ate every, single, thing on his plate. Then he followed the man upstairs to where a hot bath was waiting for him. Once the boy was bathed and in clean

clothes, the man put him to bed in the spare room in his house.

Maverick then sent for the village doctor. The boy needed some serious medical attention. He saw his injuries clearly once he had been washed. The doctor had to put

the boy into a deep sleep. He needed many stitches, and to reset his badly, broken leg. Once all of it was done, they left the boy to sleep peacefully until the

anesthesia wore off.

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 **A/N: So? Did you hate it? Like it? If you hadn't guessed so far, Harry was lost on a Scottish moor for about a week and found a village. Let me know if there is anything else you would like to see in this story.**


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